


Whispers in the Night

by Azar443



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 08:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azar443/pseuds/Azar443
Summary: There are nights when either man can't sleep, but it's ok, because they've got each other.





	Whispers in the Night

Both Percival and Newt are light sleepers, easily woken at the slightest of stirrings and the softest of breaths. Before each other, it’s rare that both men get a full night’s sleep; Percival awakening from nightmares too vivid he feels the tightening of fingers around his neck and feels an intrusion he does not want, while Newt awakens because he hears nameless, faceless people whispering malicious accusations towards him, reminding him of his failures and inadequacies. They deal with the insomnia in different ways; Percival works until he’s exhausted and falls asleep on his desk, waking up with reports stuck to his cheek and the ink slightly smudged from his skin. Newt goes into his case and finds solace in his creatures’ presence; many of them are asleep but he still likes to wander about the enclosures, staring at their peaceful visages until his eyelids droop. Dougal always huffs at him when he finds Newt slumped against a tree, dark circles surround his eyes.

When they find each other, insomnia still creeps upon them like tendrils of darkness. The first time this happens, Newt is the one who finds sleep eluding him. He awakens in a bed made warm by his companion, and looks over to see Percival’s soft black hair falling over his face which is solidly planted in his pillow. Newt reaches out with tentative fingers itching to trace the soft skin of his lover, and yet his slim digits hover in the space before Percival’s bare shoulders, reluctant to wake the peacefully sleeping man. And yet, muscles slack from sleep tense lightly, and Newt sees Percival’s dark, sleep worn eyes peering blearily at him. Their hands reach out in tandem and find one another, tangling and entwining and encircling, and Newt feels as though he holds the warm beating of their love in his hands. They talk late into the night, and even though Percival’s eyes flutter from fatigue, his voice is soothing and low and Newt feels himself start to drift off. There are strong arms about him, lowering him back onto the bed and under the warmth of covers and body, and just before he loses his hold on consciousness, he thinks he feels a kiss pressed into the crown of his head and the muffled words of _I love you_. Morpheus claims him soon after.

When it’s Percival’s turn to lie in bed, wide eyed and staring at the ceiling, incredibly sensitive to Newt’s even breathing and the rise and fall of his chest, he’s adamant not to wake the magizoologist. Instead, he moves as silently as possible and leaves their bed, setting himself before his desk to continue work once more. He doesn’t turn on any lights for fear of waking Newt, and instead squints and holds the papers up to the moonlight. There’s a small huffing sound from his back, and he sees Newt sitting in bed rubbing his tired eyes somewhat childlike, his upper torso bare and glistening under the silvery shroud of the moon. He doesn’t know it, but there’s a soft glint in Percival’s eyes as he reaches out to Newt, asking quietly if he woke him. Newt shakes his head, and there’s a soft pout on his lips as he motions for Percival to come back to bed. The shorter man glances at his reports, but the allure of a sleepy Newt who wants to cuddle is far too strong, and so he slips back into bed and they hold each other. Newt’s managed to find out a way to help Percival sleep when he can’t, and so he sings, ever so softly in his partner’s ears. He sings songs of all manners, from childhood lullabies to the current songs playing on wizarding radio. Sometimes Percival joins in, his low, dark voice striking against the higher timbre of Newt’s rich tenor voice, and they create a haunting melody that hovers about their room, and it’s as though time has stopped and air has frozen, and Percival can feel each vibration and thrumming of their voices cutting through the air. When the last note fades, so does Percival and he buries his face in Newt’s chest, breath warm on the red head’s freckled skin. When Newt is certain Percival has fallen asleep, he settles back into slumber as well, but not before kissing his ear and whispering _I love you_. And though they remind each other every day of their love for one another, there is a sacredness to whispering these words in the night, when everything is darker and stiller and permeating with magic. And maybe, just maybe, by whispering the words _I love you_ to their sleeping partners, that the night might forever remember the imprint of their bond, and that their love will remain as ageless as the stars in the sky.


End file.
